A PIECE OF WORK
Mark: 40s, short tempered
Baz: early 20s, cheeky
Tom: early 20s, nice
Quentin: early 20s, cynical
Si: early 20s, joker
Harry: late 50s, salt of the earth
Kim: late teens, wierd
Julia: mid 50s, theatrical darling
Scene One
(Pitch black. Silence. Then suddenly a booming voice explodes from somewhere in the gloom:
Mark: PARTISAN!!
(White halogen bulbs pierce the darkness and reveal a gloomy room in a community centre. Baz, Tom and Quentin are standing behind benches that have been arranged to look like battlements. Harry, wrapped in a dirty white bed sheet, stands opposite them. Si is sitting in a corner. All eyes are on Mark, who has been standing behind the audience, and is now storming down the aisle towards Baz)
Mark: PARTISAN!! It’s not funny, it’s not clever, it’s just…childish! No stop laughing! (The cast reply with more laughter) Alright, fine, I’m off. (Mark starts towards the door)
Tom: Oh come on Mark, we were just/ pissing around.
Mark: I’m sorry Tom but today has been the worst rehearsal I have ever taken, /I am sick to death of the lot of you and I am going home, (to Baz) excuse me?
Baz: (quietly)/ In your long and glamorous career as an amateur theatre director /oh, you’re excused.
(An uneasy pause, Baz stares defiantly at Mark)
Mark: Harry I’ll see you Thursday. Lock up when you go. (Mark heads for the door, Baz giggles. As Mark is about to leave, he turns back and bellows – GROW UP! – and slams the door behind him.)
Harry: That’s the first time I’ve ever seen Mark lose his temper. Well done Baz. Parmesan. Very clever. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.
Baz: Smug as a bug me.
Harry: Yes well, I thought the amateur theatre comment was a bit much. Might even go as far as to say you’re a childish prick/
Tom: Harry/
Harry: But what do I know? I suppose I best be off, see you all soon. Lock up will you Tom? (Harry tosses the key to Tom and makes for the door)
Tom: See ya Harry. (Harry exits) Christ, that was a bit dramatic wasn’t it?
(Pause)
Quentin: Well, what shall we do now?
Si: Never seen Mark shout like that before.
Tom: I’ve never seen Harry talk like that before. Making friends today Baz.
Baz: Oh come on guys! Just cause I like to have a laugh every now and then.
Quentin: Yeah but, mate you gotta see it from our point of view. We’re pretty behind with this play, what with Mark cancelling so many rehearsals, and now you’ve just made him storm off.
Baz: Oh don’t worry mate it’ll be fine.
(Beat)
You don’t all think I’m a prick do you?
Quentin: Well, it’s not my place to say really. I’ve seen you be nice. Like that time you helped Si into a taxi when he was so pissed he couldn’t walk.
Si: He sent me to Mark’s house.
(The boys laugh)
Tom: Oh God I forgot about that! Has Mark ever mentioned it?
Si: Never. I have a suspicion that he thinks that I think that he molested me. Sort of play up to it now, give him the knowing eye from time to time, you know, that look that says “You touched me and I don’t know whether to call the police or start pickin’ out curtains”.
(The boys laugh)
Tom: Hang on, if you stayed at Mark’s house, that means you can answer the all-important question.
Si: I can?
Baz: Yeah, does he have a fit wife?
Si: (Thinks) I’m pretty sure he’s not married, the only bedroom had a single bed in it so…I guess that makes Marky boy a bachelor.
Quentin: Poor old sod. Anyway, who wants a lift?
-Tom: Yes please Q!
-Si: That’d be grand.
Quentin: Baz?
Baz: Yeah mate just gimme a sec, I gotta go drain the dragon.
Tom: You gotta go… (gets it) Oh Baz you genius you.
Si: Mate you are fuckin’ childish. See you outside.
(Heads for the door, as do the others. Tom and Si exit, Quinton turns round in the doorway)
Quentin: (Mocking Mark’s tone) Why won’t you just GROW UP!! (He slams the door. Baz chuckles to himself, walks to the corner of the room, unzips his flies and ‘drains his dragon’, whistling as he does so. When finished, he shakes, zips, wipes his hands on his jeans and heads for the door. As he crosses the centre of the room, he says - to no-one in particular -
Baz: I am not childish. I am a fuckin’ wizard.
(He exits)
Scene Two
(Thursday. Nothing has changed. Julia enters, followed by Harry. As she is met by the sharp smell of three day old piss, she winces slightly and lets out a –
Julia: Strewth!
Harry: Oh lovely.
Julia: Oh for the days when one might enter a rehearsal room and not be greeted with the smell of urine.
(Harry chuckles)
Harry: I dunno, it adds a certain something. A dramatic pungency, let’s say.
Julia: Oh Harry darling, bless you. You’d find the diamond in the manure heap.
Harry: I already did. (He slaps Julia on the bottom, chuckling)
Julia: Harry! And I’ll have you know Chichester is not a manure heap, thank you very much.
(Kim bursts in as Kim always does – loudly. Harry and Julia hardly react.)
Kim: Evening.
- Julia: Good evening my darling.
- Harry: Evening Kim. Ready to go bonkers?
Kim: I still have no idea what I’m gonna do for that you know, and I bet you Mark’s gonna make me do it for real today…
Julia: Well, when I played Ophelia at the Barbican –
Harry: (not unkindly) Oh here we go…
Julia: Quiet you, I remember my director giving me a fabulous piece of advice, he said “Julia my dear” (oh he was as camp as Christmas) “Julia my darling, remember this: In a sane world, madness is the only freedom”. And it made a lot of sense really, Ophelia is such a trapped character that all her madness is is her mind and her body demanding freedom, a kind of self-imposed liberation –
Harry: Darling…
Julia: Yes Harry?
Harry: You’re doing it again.
(Beat)
Julia: Oh shush, if a girl can’t wax lyrical about a literary masterpiece/ then what are we made for for goodness sake?
Harry: It’s not that it’s just that I think you may be confusing the poor girl.
(Beat)
Kim: If I’m honest, I was just gonna have a bit of this and see what happens.
(She fishes in her bag and produces a bottle of cheap white wine. A slight pause as Harry and Julia stare blankly at Kim. Then:
Harry: (Chuckling gleefully) You cheeky little thing you! Getting some inspiration are we?
(He continues to chuckle to himself as Kim has a swig.)
Julia: (Reservedly) Yes, well, that’s not exactly how we did it in my day, I can tell you that-
Harry: Oh come off it, you used to put it away like it was mother’s milk! (To Kim) I could tell you stories would make you swear off that stuff for good, one evening I was-
Julia: Harry I don’t quite think Kim needs to hear whatever you’re about to say.
(Beat)
Oh come on then Kim, you only live once. (She plonks herself down next to Kim, who passes her the bottle) Let me see… “Premier Estate Pinot Grigio, 2011”. Golly, no expense spared by you Kimmy.
(Julia has a sip. A pained expression creeps onto her face)
Julia: Good lord. It’s pure vinegar (Harry chuckles; Julia takes another sip)
Harry: If Mark could see us now…
Julia: Mm, there’s a point where is Mark?
Harry: I’ll give him a bell (Gets out his phone and calls Mark) Hello Mark, just wondering where you were. Ta. (Hangs up) Answer phone.
Kim: He’s been a bit weird recently.
Harry: He stormed out of rehearsal on Tuesday.
Julia: Whatever for?
Harry: The boys were messing around as normal, then Baz thought it would be funny to exchange the word ‘partisan’ for the word ‘parmesan’. (Wryly) “Shall I strike at him with my parmesan”…Daft bugger. Must have sent Mark over the edge. (Harry takes a swig of wine)
Julia: That’s not like him.
Harry: That’s what I thought.
(Mark enters flustered and distracted. There is something not quite right about him. Kim hides the wine bottle under her chair)
Mark: Sorry I’m late. Right, let’s go, act four scene…three.
Harry: Everything alright Mark?
Mark: Fine thank you Harry, let’s just get going please. Ok, read it through and I’ll think of something to do with it…Kim?
Kim: Er…ok. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark ?
Julia: How now Ophelia?
Kim: (singing) How should I your true love know, from another one. By his cockle hat and staff, and his sandle shoon.
Julia: Sweet lady, what imports this song?
Kim: He is dead and gone lady, he is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, at his heels a stone.
Julia: Alas, look here my lord.
Harry: How do you, pretty lady?
Kim: Well, God thank you. They say the owl was a baker’s daughter.
Harry: How long hath she been thus?
Kim: I hope all will be well. We must be patient, but I cannot choose but to weep to think they would lay him i’th’ cold ground…
(She trails off as she looks over at Mark. Mark is sat on the bench near the wall, his face in his hands, sobbing quietly)
Harry: Mark?
Mark: Yeah. Yeah I’m fine…um. Yeah, it’s good, um, I just…
Julia: Mark…
Mark: Honestly, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. Can we just…can we not…can we just have a few minutes-
Julia: Of course dear.
Kim: (Trying to joke) Was it my acting? It does do that to people…
Mark: No Kim it wasn’t your acting. I’ve just…got a lot on my plate at the moment.
(Beat)
Harry: Well, I know how to solve this. (Harry goes over to where Kim is sat and produces the wine bottle from underneath her chair) A glass of Pinot for you sir?
Mark: (Laughing gently) No thanks Harry, thank you though.
(Beat)
Hang on, why do you have a bottle of wine?
Kim: Erm, it’s mine. I sort of brought it to maybe, like help with the scene. Going mad and all that.
(Beat)
Mark: Oh Kim. I’m not even going to ask… Oh what the hell, let’s have a bit.
Harry: At a boy Mark, you don’t live forever.
Mark: No, you really don’t. (Takes a swig. Grimaces) Wow. That is…something.
Harry: Proper vintage that is. Put some hair on your chest.
Julia: And some spots on your liver.
(They all laugh. Mark drinks again, longer. An uneasy pause. No-one really understands what is going on)
Mark: I’m sorry that I’ve been cancelling rehearsals. I’ve just been…things have been a bit tricky. But I won’t cancel any more, I promise.
- Harry: It’s fine mate,
- Julia: Don’t be silly my dear.
(Beat)
Mark: Thanks for the wine Kim... I think I’m going to go now, I’m sorry for dragging you out here. See you all on Saturday. (Mark collects his bag from where he dropped it and heads for the door. He exits. Silence.)
Kim: I…I don’t really know what that was.
Harry: I told you something was up.
Julia: Harry. I think we should go home…Yes, we should go home. Kim would you like a lift dear?
Kim: Yeah, thanks.
(They all collect their things and head slowly for the door, as if under a spell.)
Scene Three
(Saturday. Nothing has changed. The half empty wine bottle is where it was left. Mark enters, flicks on the lights and stares at his rehearsal space blankly. He goes to work arranging benches, righting chairs, etc. He is suddenly hit by a sharp pain in his chest. He simply pauses what he is doing, a single hand resting on his sternum. The pain goes, he resumes. Kim crashes through the door)
Afternoon.
Kim: Hi Mark.
(Beat)
Mark: How’ve you been?
Kim: Good, thanks. Had an interview for a job in a garden centre yesterday.
Mark: How did it go?
Kim: Yeah fine. Don’t think the woman liked me very much, I sort of let my mouth go a bit.
Mark: You didn’t take a bottle of wine with you did you?
Kim: Oh no, no way. (Pause) I took gin.
Mark: (laughing) Well, that, that is a good thing to take.
(Beat)
Mark: Kim?
Kim: Mmhm?
Mark: When you auditioned for me, you hadn’t been –
Kim: Yup.
Mark: Ah. I see.
(Beat)
Kim: I’m not like an alcoholic.
Mark: Oh no, no no no.
Kim: I just need it to be focussed you know, calm my nerves.
(Mark starts laughing)
Kim: What’s funny?
Mark: It’s just…your attitude towards life is…brilliant.
Kim: What do you mean by that?
Mark: Well, you’re what, nineteen, twenty?
Kim: Nineteen next month.
Mark: And you just don’t care.
Kim: (shrugging) Well, life’s too short to care.
(Suddenly Baz, Si, Quentin and Tom all burst in. Mark stares into space, unaware of them.)
Baz: But Pocahontas hasn’t a nose! She literally hasn’t got a nose, she looks like a…red Indian Voldemort. It’s all about Snow White.
Quentin: Snow White is a fuckin’ wet rag flopping limply in the wind. (Putting on a Snow White voice) “Oh, can you help me? I seem to have lost my way”. Urgh!
Si: Nah mate, she’s hot! (Snow White voice) “Oh, can you help me? No-one’s shown me the least bit of kindness…big boy”.
(They all laugh)
Kim: What are you guys talking about?
Tom: Which is the hottest Disney Princess.
Kim: Urgh, you guys…
(Beat)
Mark: And?
Baz: What?
Mark: Well, has a decision been reached?
Tom: Erm, we’re stuck between Pocahontas and Snow White.
Quentin: And Ariel…legs Ariel.
Mark: I see. Well, Kim and I were just talking about who out of you four is the most attractive, weren’t we Kim? (Mark winks at Kim)
Kim: Yeah, yeah we were.
(Beat. All the boys try to act nonchalant)
Si: And?
Mark: Well, I mean we talked thoroughly –
Kim: Yeah we did –
Mark: And we eventually agreed, that…you’re all piss poor ugly fuckers.
(All the boys stare at Mark in astonishment. Kim bursts out laughing, Mark joins her)
Baz: What the fuck…
(Kim and Mark laugh more, enjoying the release. Julia and Harry enter)
Harry: Missed a joke did we?
Mark: Hiya Harry, hi Julia.
Julia: Afternoon Mark. Something tickled you?
Mark: (calming down) You could say that. Ooh, dear me. Right! Is everyone here?
Harry: Yup, think so.
Mark: Ok. Everyone grab a seat wherever you can. We just need to talk through some things.
(The cast do so)
Mark: First of all, I’d like to apologise for cancelling so many rehearsals. I appreciate how much time you’ve all put into this, and I’m…I’m sorry.
Baz: That’s alright Mark.
Mark: Thank you Baz. I know you especially have missed me these last few weeks.
Baz: I cry myself to sleep at night.
(The boys chortle)
Mark: Yes, well…There aren’t going to be any more interruptions. Apart from the witty banter provided by young Barry here (If you can call changing the word partisan to parmesan witty). Anyway, we really need to crack on. We’ve only got two weeks until we’re on, and it may seem far away, but we’ve still got a lot to do. So, can we clear the space and get ready for Act One, scene Two, Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt!
(The cast busy themselves, finding scripts, clearing chairs, etc. Only Tom lingers, edging towards Mark)
Tom: Mark?
Mark: Yes Tom.
Tom: I just wanna say, I’m…I’m sorry we mess around so much. I know it annoys you and, I’ll try and keep the boys under control from now on.
Mark: Thank you Tom. But, please don’t.
Tom: What?
Mark: Right now, this cast, and everyone in it, and the big personalities and the silliness, they’re…they’re keeping me going. I’d hate it if any of them changed. Even Baz. But thank you for the apology.
Tom: That’s ok. Also, I know it’s not really my place to ask, but what was it that was, um…what was the problem? Is everything ok now?
Mark: Yes Tom, everything’s fine. Just a bit of trouble with the missus. (Walking away from Tom towards the space) Ok! Does everyone know where they need to be?
Tom: (suddenly the memory hits him) But, Mark, you don’t -
Mark: (sternly) Tom where are you for the speech? You’re off, so get off.
Tom: Oh, OK.
Mark: Take it away Quentin
Quentin: Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt, thaw and resolve itself into a dew, or that the everlasting had not fixed his canon ‘gainst self-slaughter.
(As Quentin continues the speech, Tom has gone to sit next to Si and Baz, and begins to whisper to them. All three begin to whisper, occasionally shooting Mark a knowing glance.)
Oh God, God, how weary, stale, flat and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on’t, fie! Tis an unweeded garden that grows to seed, things -
Mark: Can you three stop whispering please?
Quentin: (jokingly) Yeah guys…(The boys continue whispering through the next section of speech, Mark eyes them nervously.)
Things rank and gross in nature possess it merely. That it should come to this –
Mark: (an anxious cry) TOM!! Shut up!!
Harry: Come on lads, keep it/ down.
Baz: (getting to his feet) Hang on Harry, there’s something that –
Harry: Don’t you tell me to ‘hang on’. Mark is trying to get through this scene and you’re doing what you always do, messing around! Now if I had it my way/ what?
Mark: Harry. They’re not messing around. (He sighs) Baz, is there something you’d like to ask me?
(An uneasy pause. Neither Mark nor Baz are comfortable with the conversation they are about to have)
Baz: It’s just you told Tom the reason you cancelled rehearsals was because of stuff with your wife…
Mark: Yes.
Baz: But you don’t have a wife.
Mark: No.
Baz: So you lied.
Mark: Very assertive.
Baz: So for all we know you could have been …I dunno…living it up, going out on the town –
Harry: What do you care anyway? All you do is mess around.
Baz: Yeah but…like…that doesn’t mean I don’t like being here. I really like being here. I love…I just don’t like the idea of Mark cancelling rehearsals for no reason. That’s all it is.
(Beat)
Mark: Well Barry, I never would have thought you of all people would have felt that way. I suppose I should explain. I haven’t been cancelling rehearsals for no reason. I…Oh fuck it. I have cancer.
Julia: Oh my God.
Baz: Yeah nice one…
Mark: No Baz, this isn’t a joke. I have cancer. In the front part of my pancreas, for anyone who cares.
Kim: Fuck. That’s bad... I mean, in the pancreas, I’ve heard that’s really shit. Like really shit.
Mark: Yes Kim, it is rather, shit.
Harry: Can’t they take it out?
Mark: No, no they can’t. I have a heart murmur which means putting me under might kill me anyway. They told me that on Thursday, hence the… (mimes crying).
Tom: Jesus Mark…I’m so sorry.
Si: (unphased by the tragedy of the situation) I have a question. If you know you have cancer, why are you doing this?
Mark: Because…I’ve always wanted to. So when I found out, I thought, better get on with it. So I am. Directing Hamlet has been on my list of things to do before I die since I was a student.
Si: What else is on there?
Mark: Oh, plant a tree, see the world. Normal things really.
(Long pause)
Julia: Well…let’s crack on shall we?
(The lights snap off. Harry steps into a spot and talks to the audience)
Harry: Well, we got through it eventually. People said it was a Hamlet of great thoughtfulness, and depth. “There was a real sense of the weighing and measuring of life and mortality”, the local paper said. Makes sense I suppose.
When it was finished, we gave Mark two presents. Kim gave him a pine sapling from her garden centre, which he planted. And, the piece de resistance: a ticket to New York. Cost us a bit, but we split it between seven so it worked out ok. Julia and me got a postcard from him the other week. Had a picture of the Niagra Falls on it, and on the back it simply read, “Thank you”. Mark my lad. You’re most welcome.
